


I Can't Live (If Living is Without You)

by Jeanie205



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeanie205/pseuds/Jeanie205
Summary: In order to contact Roan, Bellamy has let himself be captured by the Azgeda, and Clarke is beside herself with worry.  Never one to sit around and wait for others to solve a problem, Clarke springs into action, perhaps putting herself in danger as well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As always, my gratitude to Nell65 for her helpful input.

"What do you mean _they've got him?_ _Who's_ got him? Nate, where the hell is Bellamy?"

Clarke could hear the agitation in her voice, and she felt the fear begin to claw at her gut. She hadn't been prepared for this. Not after what they'd just been through. And what now lay ahead of them.

She needed Bellamy. He was the one person she trusted implicitly. The one person whose touch always offered calm encouragement when she was on the brink of despair. She didn't know if she could get through it all without him.

Miller glanced away, and Clarke saw the briefest flicker of relief in his eyes only an instant before she sensed a presence behind her. She felt a hand land softly on her rigid shoulder.

"Clarke, Miller, what's happened?" Kane voice was calm as usual, but it failed to quell her rising panic.

Miller nodded, acknowledging the chancellor. "We ran into some Azgeda while we were scouting out the area that Raven said might work for building the pods. There were only a half dozen of them, and I thought we had a good chance of winning the skirmish when Bellamy suddenly threw his gun down, raised his hands, and demanded to be taken to Roan."

"What?" Clarke couldn't believe it. Bellamy would never give up like that. "And you just...just let him do it?" Anger was beginning to replace panic, beginning to overwhelm fear.

Kane's voice remained quiet. "Clarke, you know Bellamy wouldn't have made that kind of move unless he had some strategy in mind. And that Nate and Bryan couldn't have stopped him, anyway."

He returned to his interrogation of Miller. "What happened next?"

"At first, I was afraid they'd kill him on the spot," Miller said, side-eyeing Clarke warily, "but they didn't. I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation, but whatever he said must have convinced them." He shrugged. "I'm assuming they did what he asked and took him to Roan."

Kane sighed, and she imagined him taking the time to weigh their next move. But Clarke was having none of it. She wasn't going to sit around and wait while Bellamy's life was in danger. She'd been down that road once before and she'd promised herself it was never happening again.

Clarke impatiently shook Kane's hand from her shoulder.

"I'll be ready to head out in twenty minutes, Nate, and I need you to show me where this happened. So whatever you need to do to resupply, do it fast."

Miller sighed but looked resigned, as though maybe he'd expected that exact reaction. But Kane was aghast.

"Clarke! Wait a minute. Nothing will be gained by your going racing after Bellamy. We have to trust that he knew what he was doing."

But Clarke was already hurrying away. "Twenty minutes!" she shot back over her shoulder.

XXXXXXXXXX

She was throwing things into her largest pack when Clarke heard the soft rap at her door.

"Clarke?" Abby's voice was tentative.

She stopped her frenzied packing just long enough to fling open the door to her tiny quarters.

"Don't bother trying to stop me, Mom. I'm not waiting while some _official_ plan is hatched to save Bellamy. Or while you all decide whether you'll even bother to try."

Abby sat on Clarke's bed, watching while her daughter tossed the last few things into the pack.

"What do you think you can do, Clarke? Against an Azgeda army?"

"I-I don't know, Mom, but I have to try. Roan is someone I know. I think I can make him listen to me."

"He's also someone _Bellamy_ knows. That's probably why Bellamy...did what he did. He felt he could convince Roan to stop this senseless war."

"I know that, Mom. I know Bellamy has some kind of plan in mind. And maybe," she paused in zipping up the pack to look her mother in the eye, "I should...let it all play out. But I just can't. Maybe if he'd discussed it with me ahead of time, but," she ran the zipper up the last side of the pack, "he didn't."

"Perhaps he couldn't, Clarke. Perhaps he saw what he thought was a good opportunity and he took it. If you remember, Roan hasn't been that easy to find. Marcus has been trying for weeks."

With a quiet thump, Clarke sat down next to Abby. "Yeah, I know that, too. But I just..."

Abby reached up and brushed a stray hair from her daughter's face. "You need to trust Bellamy," she said earnestly.

Clarke's lips twisted in the tiniest of smiles as she wrapped her arms around her mother.

"I do trust him." Her voice was so soft it was nearly a whisper. "But I can't just sit here and wait to find out if he lives or dies. Not...not Bellamy."

"Ah," her mother said, her voice equally quiet. "I do understand how impossible it must feel to do nothing when someone you... when Bellamy...is in danger. But do you have to do this yourself, Clarke? Can't someone else...?"

But Clarke was already shaking her head. "No, Mom, I need to go myself. I need to see for myself that he's...okay."

And try as she might, when she was wrapped in her mother's sympathetic embrace, Clarke couldn't seem to prevent the tears of worry from filling her eyes.

Abby pulled back to study her daughter's face then, and her small smile was wry.

"I understand better than you think," she said. "But please be careful. We don't...none of us wants to lose Bellamy, but I want my daughter safe, too."

Clarke sighed softly, wondering how to reassure her mother. Realizing almost immediately that it would be impossible.

"I want to live, Mom. I want to survive, and thrive, and...and have a life. So I won't do anything...stupid. But...I need for Bellamy to live, too."

It was the best she could do and maybe it had been enough. Abby nodded.

XXXXXXXXXX

It was nearly a two-hour drive back to the spot where the Azgeda had taken Bellamy. Clarke knew that Nate and Bryan were tired, and she supposed she shouldn't have asked them to head back out after they'd already spent most of the day in the field. And that maybe this rescue mission could even have waited until tomorrow. But neither of the boys had protested, and she couldn't feel guilty. Not when her blood was running cold and her head was telling her that every second counted.

Not when she knew that she'd never be able to rest easy until she saw Bellamy again. Alive and well.

Miller pulled the Rover to an abrupt halt near a large outcropping of rocks.

"This is it. We stopped here at the coordinates Raven gave us. We'd only been out of the Rover a couple of minutes when the first Azgeda arrow whizzed by. We took cover in those rocks," he nodded toward the boulders halfway up a shallow hill, "and got off only a few rounds before Bellamy made his move. The Azgeda took him in that direction." He indicated a wide path that began in the grassy clearing and continued into the forest.

Clarke nodded slowly, searching the landscape carefully before she reached for the door handle.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Miller stretched across her to grab her hand before she could open the door.

"I'm getting out of the truck. I'll never find Roan from the Rover, Nate. The Azgeda figured out a long time ago that they can't infiltrate the Rover."

"Well, then, what the hell, Clarke? You're just going to be making a bad situation worse. Can't we...I don't know...drive down the path where they took off with Bellamy?"

But Clarke was already shaking her head.

"This is right on the edge of Ice Nation. We can't look like we're trying to invade. That's why I need to go by myself. Talk to Roan." Clarke had never felt more determined that this was the only way that would work. "As soon as I get out, you and Bryan should turn the Rover around and head back to Arkadia."

"Are you nuts? If I did that, I might just as well hope Bellamy never makes it back because he'd kill me for sure if he heard I left you alone out here."

But Clarke was adamant. "You can't stay here."

Miller studied her a moment, his face unhappy. "All right," he finally said, with a reluctant sigh. "I'll take the Rover back a few miles to the last point we were able to reach Arkadia on the comms, but that's as far as I'll go. And at least take your rifle with you." He nudged the weapon toward her, the one she'd already removed from her shoulder and placed on the seat between them.

Clarke shook her head. "I don't want to be seen as a threat. And I'm a lousy shot with a rifle, anyway. Much better," she said, patting the backpack that she'd slung over her left shoulder, "with the handgun I still have in my pack."

"Okay," he said, resigned. "Good luck. And be sure to tell Bellamy I tried to reason with you."

Clarke smiled. "Really, Nate, who would you rather have pissed off at you? Bellamy...or me?"

She was out of Rover, slamming the door behind her, before he could even answer her question. When the truck remained unmoving for several moments, Clarke turned to glare at Miller through the windshield. Then she saw him mutter over his shoulder to Bryan, who scrambled into the front passenger seat before the Rover finally turned around, hurtling back down the road bed in the direction they'd come.

She was alone. _What now?_

No one seemed to be running out of the woods or from the cover of the tall grasses to capture her, so Clarke headed toward the path down which Miller said the Azgeda had taken Bellamy. It was pointless to aim for stealth, she decided, although she was much better at it than she used to be.

_Trying to bag a panther will do that._

But now Clarke was looking to be found, not remain hidden.

She'd just made it across the grassy clearing and started down the forest path when it happened. An arrow whizzed through the air, hitting a tree only a foot in front of her, and she gasped, halting abruptly. They came at her from all sides then, pulling off her pack and twisting her arms behind her back.

"I want to speak with your king, with Roan." Clarke poured every ounce of courage she had into making her voice sound strong and authoritative, but it seemed to have little effect. They just pulled her arms together more tightly and began to bind her wrists.

"Why should our king speak with you?" one of them asked contemptuously, the one who seemed to be in charge. He was very large, and scarification covered most of his face.

"Because he knows me. I am Clarke kom Skaikru. We...met in Polis."

"More Skaikru." He spat the words out, but all Clarke heard was the "more" and her hopes began to soar.

"Yes. We - Roan and I - fought together..."

The Azgeda scoffed openly. "Why would our king fight with you? You are not a warrior!"

Clarke knew it was a calculated risk. She had no idea what these warriors might have heard, how they might have viewed the coalition or the events in Polis. But she needed to get their attention, to persuade them to do what she wanted.

She drew herself up, gathering every inch she possessed. Trying her best to be, if not intimidating, at least compelling. She pitched her voice as low as possible.

"King Roan fought side by side with me because I _am_ a warrior. I am... _Wanheda_!"

Clarke saw by their reaction that while they may not have heard of Clarke kom Skaikru, or known exactly what went down in Polis, they'd heard of _Wanheda_. She held her breath, waiting to find out whether or not that would be to her advantage.

Scarred Face grunted, examining her with obvious skepticism before making what appeared to be a reluctant decision. He produced a hood from inside his clothing and threw it over her head. Clarke could hardly breathe, but she kept still, because it seemed she wasn't going to die. At least not at the moment.

The warrior pushed so hard at her shoulder that without the use of her arms for balance she nearly fell to the ground. But she got the idea. Clarke began to walk.

But Scarred Face had the last word. "If our king does not know you, I will kill you myself."

XXXXXXXXXX

It seemed like hours that she was forced to stumble over rough terrain, straining to keep her balance with her hands tied behind her back. It reminded her of her journey to Polis after Roan kidnapped her. Now she was enduring the same kind of treatment in order to find Roan, and the irony was not lost on her.

Just as she thought she might pass out from both the strain on her arms and the sheer effort of remaining upright, Clarke began to hear the faint sounds of human activity. They became louder and louder until finally her arm was grabbed and she was shoved roughly to her knees.

This also felt...familiar, except she knew she wasn't in the throne room in Polis.

"Wait here!" Scarred Face grunted, and she wondered idly how he thought she'd be able to either rise or move about. But it was only a few moments later that the hood was suddenly yanked from her head. Clarke had time for one or two deep breaths before she heard a familiar voice.

"I could claim that this is a surprise, Clarke, but that would be a lie. I've been expecting you to turn up. I just didn't think it would be quite this soon."

Clarke looked up into the mocking gray eyes of King Roan of Azgeda.

"Well, if you were expecting me, Roan, you could at least have sent out a better welcome party." She twisted slightly and wiggled her fingers. "Think someone could untie me now?"

Sighing deeply, Roan jerked his head at Scarred Face, who reached down and cut through her bonds with one stroke of his sharp blade. Clarke nearly fell over in her relief from the strain on her limbs. She rolled her aching shoulders as she glanced at her surroundings.

They appeared to be in a large camp. A war camp, perhaps, Azgeda style. Makeshift tents were scattered as far as she could see from her position on the ground, and dozens of warriors roamed about engaging in activities that looked suspiciously like preparations for battle. She watched as a group of warriors practiced hand-to-hand combat, while others honed skills in archery or spear-throwing.

Clarke sighed. Kane had been right. The Azgeda were readying for war with the Trikru just when the whole damn world was about to end.

"What are you doing here, Clarke?" Roan asked, exasperated, forcing her attention back to her immediate problem.

"You just said you were expecting me, so I think you already know the answer to that."

Clarke lifted her chin. It was never a good idea to back down with Roan kom Azgeda. "Kane has been trying to find you for weeks, Roan. While you're here," she looked around, gesturing with her now-unbound arms, "whipping your people into a frenzy, the planet is about to kill you all anyway."

"I've already had this discussion with Kane, and I-I was not convinced." But Clarke heard the slight falter in his voice. "My question was really...why have you come _today_ , _Wanheda_?" His tone was wry.

Clarke knew that he already had the answer to that one, too, so she cut to the chase.

"Where is he, Roan? I swear, if you've harmed him..."

Roan chuckled, shaking his head. "I see you have not changed at all, Clarke." He pulled her to her feet, glancing around at his warriors. "Why don't we have this discussion inside where it is not quite so...noisy."

He cocked his head at Scarred Face. "See that we are not disturbed."

The tent into which she was now being ushered was much larger than the others, and she expected that it would also prove to be the most resplendent, at least in terms of grounder amenities. But the first thing Clarke noticed when she entered the gloomy interior wasn't the number of furs or the splendor of the king's throne, but a recumbent figure in the far corner.

She turned to Roan, fear coursing through her. "What the hell have you done to him?"

"Bellamy is fine, Clarke. He had a small...difference of opinion with a member of my guard earlier, so I had him confined to that corner. Mostly for his own safety. I believe," he added thoughtfully, "that now that you are here, he will be more careful of his actions."

Roan asked Bellamy's guard to cut through the ropes that bound his feet, leaving only the binding on his arms, which had been tied loosely together in front of him. She could see that he also had some superficial bruising on his face, but other than that he appeared unharmed.

Bellamy struggled to a sitting position, peering across the dim tent.

"Clarke! What the hell!" Bellamy's tone became accusatory as he addressed the Azgedan.

"What the fuck, Roan? You making it your mission in life to kidnap Clarke?"

That brought a shake of the head from the king. And nearly a smile.

"You can go," he said, dismissing the single guard that remained in the tent. The warrior looked as though he'd like to protest, but contained himself. He left, finally, grunting that he would be right outside.

"Let's sit now," Roan told them, seating himself at the head of a long table. "I'm sure you could both do with some water."

Clarke grabbed both the seat and the water greedily. Bellamy was more reluctant, finally taking the seat across from Clarke and lifting the drink to his mouth.

Only to slap the empty cup down with a bang.

"Are you going to explain what the fuck she's doing here?"

"Clarke arrived much the same way you did, Bellamy," Roan answered, shrugging.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I came looking for you, of course," Clarke said, although she thought it should have been obvious. Expected even. Certainly _Roan_ had expected it.

Bellamy turned toward her, clearly baffled. "Why would you put yourself in danger like this?"

"Why would _you_?" she countered hotly. "What were you thinking? You had no way of knowing if Roan was even close by?"

Bellamy stared at her like he couldn't believe she'd ask such a stupid question.

"I was _thinking_ that it's been impossible to find Roan and that this was the best chance we'd had in weeks. I was _thinking_ that if Raven is right, if this is the area where we need to build the pods, we'll never be able to do it without his cooperation."

"But you can't just go off like that without telling someone!" Her arms folded across her chest in frustration. Clarke was damn well not letting him off the hook.

"You mean not without telling _you_. You know, Clarke, I remember a time when you had a little more faith in me. If I found a way to make something happen, you wouldn't expect me to check it out with you first!"

"This is different, Bellamy. You know it is!"

_What was he talking about? Of course she had faith in him. Why couldn't he understand that she just didn't want, couldn't stand..._

Her mind veered away as Bellamy broke into her thoughts.

"No, Clarke, it isn't different. It's just like always. I had an opportunity to find Roan and I took it. Because I know that if we don't get the pods built, or find some other way to avoid the radiation that's going to soak into everything on this fucking planet, it won't matter what happens to me because we'll all be dead soon anyway!"

Clarke chose not to respond to that, turning instead to Roan, her voice deliberate.

"And has Bellamy made his case? I mean, he did risk his life just to get an audience with you, so surely you listened to what he had to say."

" _Roan and I_ ," Bellamy emphasized, before the Azgedan could answer, "were having a very productive discussion until some asshole decided to take offense at something I said."

"I think it might have been when you called his king an idiot," Roan interjected, amused.

"That's not exactly what happened," Bellamy objected impatiently.

"I don't care," Clarke said, shaking her head at Bellamy and focusing on Roan. "Bellamy is not someone we'd ordinarily send on a diplomatic mission, Roan. So I apologize for his...lack of tact."

She heard Bellamy's huff of protest, but she ignored him completely.

"On the other hand, since he did put himself at some risk," Clarke continued making her point, "maybe you'll give what he had to say more weight than you normally would."

"Than I'd normally give to anything coming out of the mouth of Bellamy Blake?" Roan sought clarification, his mouth twisting into a smirk and his brows cocked questioningly.

"That, too," she said drily. "But I was really asking if you understood that he would never have taken such a chance if the stakes weren't...enormous."

Roan nodded. "That thought had occurred to me."

Clarke felt a wave of relief. Perhaps Bellamy's idea hadn't been so foolish after all. She turned to congratulate him, but Bellamy ignored her, addressing Roan instead.

"So you've decided then? You'll allow the pods to be built? Help us?"

Roan hesitated. "It's getting late," he said, nodding toward the tent's opening where the dusky rose of a deepening sunset could be plainly seen. "We'll eat and get some rest. In the morning, I'll give you my answer."

Bellamy sighed in frustration, but Clarke knew that for the moment, they'd have to be satisfied with that answer.

Roan fed them and sent them both to the far end of the tent to bed down for the night. Bellamy turned his back on her as soon as they lay down, and Clarke knew he was angry. But she'd known all along that he might be and it hadn't influenced her actions in the slightest.

She had nearly drifted off to sleep when she heard a rustle that told her that Bellamy had shifted on his pallet. And she knew in her bones that he was still watching her back after all.

The sun hadn't yet cleared the eastern horizon when Roan shook them roughly awake the next morning. He cut the loose bonds on Bellamy's hands and shoved Clarke's pack at her. Then she noticed two Azgeda warriors behind Roan, not Scarred Face or any of those who had captured her, but two others that she'd seen guarding Roan's tent.

"You need to leave now," Roan rasped. "My warriors will see you safely to the edge of our territory, but I suggest you move quickly away from Azgeda lands."

"And the pods?" Bellamy asked.

Roan lowered his voice so that only they could hear him. "Tell Marcus Kane that I will come to Arkadia in two days' time. We will make a plan then. One that includes the Azgeda clan," he stressed.

"Of course," Clarke said, nodding. "And, Roan? Thank you. We _will_ find a way for all of us to survive."

Over her protestations, Bellamy grabbed her pack and hoisted it onto his back. Then, with their escorts positioned first and last, they walked in single file out of the tent, through the camp, and along the twisting forest path.

They traveled so quickly that Clarke, with her smaller stature and shorter stride, often had trouble keeping pace. She nearly stumbled on one occasion, but Bellamy, behind her, grabbed her elbow and righted her. She turned to thank him, but Bellamy's face was closed down, unreadable, and Clarke faltered in expressing her gratitude.

Eventually they reached the edge of the forest and stepped into the grassy clearing.

"We leave you here," the leader said. It was the first time either of the Azgedans had spoken. "Do not return."

Clarke and Bellamy nodded their agreement, and in seconds the warriors had disappeared back into the forest.

They stood there for a moment in silence, and then Clarke took her first easy breath since being told that Bellamy had been captured. Not only were they both free, she remembered suddenly, but they'd made a deal with Roan.

"It looks like we made it happen, Bellamy," she said with relief. But when she turned toward him, instead of the satisfaction she expected, she saw anger.

" _I_ made it happen, Clarke. Not _we...me!"_

"Well," she huffed, "I certainly don't want to steal your glory! I'll be sure to tell Marcus that it was all your doing."

"You know damn well that's not what I meant! I meant I didn't need you to come after me. To put yourself in danger like that. What the hell did you think you were doing, anyway?"

Bellamy's frustration was evident in his set face and his rigid body, "There was no need for both of us to be there. I had the situation under control."

"Under control?" Clarke wasn't having it and her voice began to rise. "You were trussed up in the corner like a...like a stuck pig!"

"That was just...temporary. I was well on my way to convincing Roan when things went a little sideways. But we'd have gotten back on track. So you didn't need to come riding to my rescue. Take such a fucking risk!"

Bellamy closed his eyes as though he were in pain. And when he opened them, she could see the remnants of raw fear.

"Do you have any idea," he said, "how scared I was when I saw you standing in Roan's tent? When I thought you might be hurt?"

Clarke just shook her head, torn between remorse that she'd caused Bellamy anguish and frustration that he couldn't understand that she might have felt the same.

Frustration won out.

"And how do you think I felt when Nate and Bryan came back without you? How could _you_ take such a risk?" she cried. "What if something had happened to you?"

Even now - when they were out of the Azgeda camp, well on their way back to Arkadia - even now, she could hardly bear to think about how precarious his position had been.

"I didn't think of it as a risk, Clarke, I thought of it as an opportunity," Bellamy said earnestly. "But even if it _was_ a risk, it was small one, considering how crucial it was to get Roan's cooperation."

"A _small_ risk? Taking chances with your life was only a _small_ risk? How can you be so careless with your own safety, Bellamy? If Roan hadn't been in that camp, you'd probably be dead!"

Clarke felt the tears spring to her eyes, and she glanced away, telling herself it was only the anger.

Bellamy shook his head, struggling to defend himself and his actions. "Are you telling me you really believe that potentially saving _everyone_ wasn't worth the small chance that I might get hurt?"

"Yes!" Her reaction was immediate.

But then she shook her head, strove for objectivity. "No." She sighed. "I don't know."

"Clarke, you don't mean that. Fuck, _you're_ the one who closed the drop ship door. Who sent me into the mountain. You've always understood that sometimes things just have to be done, no matter the risk."

"Yeah? Well, why is it that the person taking the risk always has to be _you_? Of _course_ I want to find a way for me...for all of us...to live. And it's beginning to look like we might just be able to make it happen."

Clarke paused, gathering her courage as she studied Bellamy's face. She desperately needed to make him understand.

"But it would be a hollow victory if you weren't there, too, Bellamy. Right beside me. As my friend, as my partner, as," she finished uncertainly, "whatever you wanted to be."

Bellamy went still. Not a muscle in his body seemed to be moving. Except his eyes, which scrutinized her face as though trying to read a book in a language he wasn't sure he'd really mastered.

"And what do you want me to be to you?" he asked finally. Plainly.

"Everything." The word tumbled out of her mouth without thought. "Or at least," she amended, "everything that matters."

She could read the shock in his face.

"You've never said anything like that to me before," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"No," she agreed. "I've been afraid to say it, afraid to even think it." She took a deep breath. "But that doesn't make it any less true."

And at that, Bellamy was silent for so long that Clarke knew that she must have got it horribly wrong. That he didn't want them to be anything more to each other than they already were: co-leaders, partners, the best of friends.

She felt herself flush with embarrassment, and suddenly all she could think about was ending this painful conversation.

"We need to get back to Arkadia before they decide to send out a search party," she said, her voice tight, as she turned on her heel and began to walk rapidly away. But she hadn't gone more than a few yards when she heard him behind her, his longer legs eating up the distance between them.

Bellamy dropped the pack he was carrying and grabbed onto her shoulders, spinning her around to face him. Before she knew what was happening, he had her wrapped in his arms, pulling her to him so tightly that she was suddenly dizzy with his nearness. She clutched at his waist, her heart beating rapidly.

"Clarke," he said, rasping out her name, and she could hear the emotion in his voice, feel it vibrate on his tongue. "Are you telling me you want to _be_ with me? Because you've been all I've wanted for so long, but I never let myself hope you could feel the same."

Clarke pulled back to search his face, almost afraid to believe that she hadn't made a terrible mistake after all. But he was smiling down at her with such joy that she couldn't help her answering smile.

Bellamy reached up to cup her face, and her whole body shivered when she felt those large hands caressing her so gently. His face was filled with wonder, his deep voice softer than she'd ever heard it.

"If it's what you really want, we can be...everything to each _other_."

And then he was kissing her, and all she knew was the softness of his lips, the strength of his arms, and the press of his warm body against her own. And for a little while - a few moments out of time when there were no crises, or responsibilities, or terrible trials ahead - they clung to each other, giving in at last to long-suppressed desire.

But then breathing became a necessity and they broke apart just far enough to drag some oxygen into their lungs.

"We should probably keep going," she reminded him, gasping a little. "Nate's waiting just a few miles away and he's probably worried sick." But still her feet remained exactly where they were.

"I think Miller can handle the stress a little longer," he said, as he pulled her into another kiss, this one longer, deeper, more intense. Clarke found that being this close to Bellamy was more overwhelming than she ever could have imagined, and she wondered how she was going to move even one step away.

So when he groaned and pulled back, both of them breathing hard, she tried to push back into his warmth.

Bellamy laughed, a small chuckle filled with self-deprecation.

"I'm an idiot for starting this now when we know we have to stop."

"And I'm an idiot for encouraging you." Her smile was broad, and inside her chest it felt like a million tiny bubbles were fizzing and bursting. Clarke couldn't remember ever feeling this happy.

"Yeah," he said fondly, stroking his thumb across her cheek. "Two idiots."

And then he sighed, stretching to pick up the pack with one hand and reaching for Clarke with the other.

"Come on," he said. "The sooner we get to the Rover, the sooner we get back to Arkadia."

XXXXXXXXXX

It took them the better part of two hours to make it the few miles back to the Rover, since they couldn't seem to go more than a quarter hour without one or the other of them deciding that stopping for a few more kisses would do no harm. Clarke had just about reached the point where she was considering dragging him into the forest, and to hell with anything else, when they rounded a bend and found the Rover parked along the road bed.

She pushed down her disappointment and managed to enjoy the look of amazed relief on Miller's face. From there, it was another two hours' drive back to Arkadia, where they found other relieved faces.

Their report to Kane was succinct.

"He did it," Clarke said, nodding at Bellamy. Now that they were safe, and her fear and anger had dissipated, she couldn't help but admire the sheer audacity of Bellamy's plan. "Roan will be here in two days and I'm pretty sure he's been convinced that the danger is real."

Kane nodded. "Good. It wouldn't be possible to move forward with this plan without Roan's help. Well done, Bellamy," he said, clapping him on the shoulder.

And then finally... _finally_...the greetings and the explanations and the reports were done and it was just the two of them, moving down the corridor toward their sleeping quarters. Clarke's were closer, but when they arrived there and she opened her door, Bellamy hesitated.

"I hope you don't think you're going anywhere else," she said, her hands on her hips.

"I don't _want_ to," he said earnestly, "but...I just need you to be sure."

Clarke laughed, tugging him into the room and closing the door behind them.

"I was about to jump you back there on the road just before we reached the Rover, so I've been sure for hours now."

Bellamy smiled. "Good," he said, pulling her against him, "that's all I wanted to hear."

And Clarke _was_ sure. When he kissed her breathless, she was sure.

With every stroke of his hand or touch of his mouth on her trembling body, she was even more sure.

And when he was finally inside her? That's when she knew their connection would be deep and lasting, that this was her destiny, and that together they would find a way to fulfill it.


End file.
